


snapshot

by diamantrouge



Series: Indecentber 2020 Prompt Selection [2]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! GX
Genre: Aftersex shenanigans, Established Relationship, Fubuki being a flirt, M/M, Post-Canon, Ryo acting hard to get, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:02:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28414338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diamantrouge/pseuds/diamantrouge
Summary: Fubuki wants to make some memories, now that Ryo is by his side again. Ryo, on the other hand, can be a bit difficult to deal with sometimes - but his boyfriend loves him anyway.
Relationships: Marufuji Ryou | Zane Truesdale/Tenjouin Fubuki | Atticus Rhodes
Series: Indecentber 2020 Prompt Selection [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2076240
Kudos: 13





	snapshot

**Author's Note:**

> Another ficlet for the Indecentber selection: prompt number 28 ("Aftersex selfie"). I'm a chaotic beast and I pick them more or less randomly, this one just screamed Fuburyo.

Maybe it’s the warm glow of the bedside light and the way it casts soft shadows on Ryo’s tired face, but Fubuki can’t help but hold his breath at the sight. One hand trails up Ryo’s heaving chest, almost a ghostlike touch on the fever-hot skin; the two of them catching their breath after what felt both like a thousand years and the blink of an eye.

But most importantly – Fubuki finally felt they had left the weights that had been keeping them apart behind them. They were like planets, in that. Always in each other’s orbit, but too far away for what felt like an eternity.

He feels daring enough to deem that reunion an eclipse. The corners of his lips quirk up as his fingers brush a stray lock of Ryo’s hair away; he turns his face to him, the rhythm of his breath slowing down, and meets him with the gentle gaze he knows.

Truth be told, Fubuki’s learnt to love Ryo's rougher parts as well, with time – because if there’s one thing he knows about Ryo's feelings, it's that they’re whole. But he’d be lying if he said he hasn’t been afraid of never seeing that look in Ryo’s eyes again.

«I’m glad you’re back», Fubuki murmurs, resting his forehead against his. It’s plain and it doesn’t convey the half of the rush of it, and how he has missed pressing his entire weight against Ryo and the sweet sounds spilling from his lover’s mouth – and their entwined fingers. But his legs feel sore and he’ll probably catch a cold if they stay naked any longer – and Ryo especially can’t afford to catch anything more – so he just opts to wrap one leg around his, pulling him closer.

He smiles against Ryo’s lips.

«Also, you’re hot», Fubuki whispers, and Ryo pulls back a bit, averting his eyes like they didn’t have their hands and mouths all over each other just minutes ago; the hint of a smile curves his lips anyway. Heat pools in the pit of his stomach at the side.

That man is dangerously pretty – for real, though, Fubuki thinks. Maybe it’s the light, maybe it’s the fact that he has missed holding him that tight more than anything else in the world, but he feels like there should be a way to engrave that moment in his memory in a way that doesn’t involve staring at Ryo like an idiot in love.

Even if he is.

Through his musings, right when Ryo wraps an arm around his shoulders, something clicks.

He can, actually, engrave that moment. Ryo’s soft noise of protest doesn’t stop him from turning away and extending his body towards the bedside, feeling around in hopes to find something that resembles his phone. To be fair, he does keep too many books and comics on it, and that should change, but for now he’ll just have to deal with the awkward.

He can’t see him, but he can tell Ryo’s gaze is fixated on his nape and his brow is furrowed; he also likes to imagine a light scrunch of his nose and a squint, just to guess what’s going on. Fubuki turns back at him, phone in hand, sliding his thumb on the screen solemnly.

He curls up to Ryo and opens the front camera with a smile. The small squeal that follows catches him off guard; the laughter bubbles up from his chest and has him curling on the bed. Ryo is staring at him wide-eyed, in an attempt at covering up with the balled-up remains of the blanket.

They’ve already seen each other naked enough for neither to care, but Fubuki can’t help to find his shyness cute. It was so when they first got close, and it still is.

«Don’t do that», Ryo stutters, his lips trembling lightly as he raises his index finger against Fubuki with an accusatory motion. His other hand curls into the fabric of the blanket as if it would grant him protection.

The corners of Fubuki’s lips quirk up. «But you’re pretty», he croons, lifting himself up and moving forward. Ryo’s face twists into a scowl, eyes growing stern; but Fubuki has learnt patience, and he prides himself to be stubborn enough to at least try and get what he wants.

Ryo’s hand wraps around his wrist as he closes the distance, pushing the hand that holds the phone upwards. Fubuki’s free palm trails up Ryo’s chest, their faces inches apart.

«Please? », he purrs, his breath ghosting on the other’s lips «Just this once? »

«No», Ryo’s reply is dry and he rests his forehead against his again, but more as a way to assert himself this time around.  _ How cute _ , Fubuki thinks with a smirk, planting a light kiss on his lips once again. To his credit, Ryo makes it hard to refrain from teasing him; so, he just nibbles on his lower lip.

«“No” as in “fuck off” or “no” as in “try me”, Ryo? », Fubuki taunts, running one finger up to his neck and tracing his jaw.

The silence that follows is interesting to say the least. Fubuki brings his mouth on level with his neck as Ryo’s grip tightens on his wrist even as he lowers it; Fubuki’s teeth graze at his skin, soft enough to be playful. Ryo’s already marked up more than enough, what harm could a couple more bruises ever do?

A low groan rises from his throat as he swallows hard. «Oh, come on, don’t be so cold to me», Fubuki quips, mouthing lazily at the side of his neck «It’s… kind of useless, now».

Ryo cups his free hand under Fubuki’s jaw and squeezes his cheek a bit, pushing his face away. He frowns, but the expression soon melts into a sigh. «If I let you go, will you behave? », he asks, tired as if scolding a child.

To match the mood, Fubuki sticks his tongue out. Ryo takes it as a no, narrowing his gaze, but softens his grip anyway.

Big mistake.

It only takes a small amount of calculation for Fubuki to strike. The phone lands somewhere between the pillows and he flings himself at Ryo, pinning him down with his weight. Not that it’s hard – but the way Ryo’s eyes widen like those of a cat who just heard the Roomba go may be even more rewarding than the sounds he would have  _ so _ wanted to record. Good thing his memory has recovered enough.

Fubuki’s eyes lock with Ryo’s, who is now pursing his lips in an attempt at looking more disgruntled than he actually is. It’s not the first time this has happened, and it certainly won’t be the last – and it’s not like Ryo hasn’t taken his sweet, sweet revenge when he felt like it. Still, Fubuki grins at him as he pins his wrists over his head and leans down, hair falling forward to tickle Ryo’s cheeks. He scrunches his nose at the contact.

«Well, well, well – how the tables have turned», Fubuki croons, getting closer to Ryo’s face as his free hand trails down his chest. Ryo rolls his eyes – is it an attempt at sass, or is it his body reacting to him? Judging from the way he shivers, there may be less bite in his attitude than he’d like.

«You’re annoying, you know that? », Ryo groans, narrowing his eyes again. The smeared eyeliner and the lips still swollen from kissing make Fubuki think otherwise.

«Oh – did I hear wrong, then? », he jeers in a singsong voice, thick with anticipation as his palm dances on the hard contour of his hipbone «I thought you said you’ve missed me».

«Does one exclude the other? », Ryo asks, chuckling slightly. His breath hitches slightly when Fubuki’s hand reaches lower, finding him especially responsive; his fingers wrap around his shaft, firm enough to feel Ryo twitch against his palm.

«No, but I like it more when you cooperate», Fubuki’s breath ghosts over Ryo’s lips as he taunts him. Sometimes it feels like poking a hornet’s nest, but he’s confident enough and has a couple of aces up his sleeve to loosen his boyfriend up a bit.

Kissing him is always a good start. He presses his lips against his and Ryo tilts his head in response, slightly craning his neck up to meet him; his lips part softly and a moan escapes them when Fubuki strokes him, slow and steady, allowing Ryo’s tongue to slide on his lips for access.

Fubuki lets him in and moves his own tongue accordingly. Like a blow fired from a slingshot, he’s thrown back at least three years, and they’re still doing the same thing – but under the familiar flashes of the lighthouse, rotating lazily, guiding them home. Ryo’s taste feels like safety. So, he deepens the kiss, tilting his head as well, eyelids brushing against Ryo’s cheekbones.

He releases the grip on his hands and Ryo wraps his arms around him, closing the last bit of distance between them. As they part to catch their breath, Fubuki dives right back on his neck again, leaving a trail of kisses down to his collarbone.

«Do I always get to be spoiled when I act up? », Ryo asks, between pants «If I misbehave it’s on you, then».

Fubuki’s teeth pull harder under his collarbone and Ryo hisses, still weak against his hand. «Mhm, maybe», Fubuki muses, smirking against his skin and heaving a sigh when he feels Ryo’s hand trail down his back to squeeze his ass. «I can reward you more if you humour me just this once…»

Ryo tilts his head back and a longer, deeper moan spills from his lips when the tip of Fubuki’s tongue flicks against his nipple.

«Damn- you never give up, do you? », Ryo stutters. Fubuki lifts his face and smiles in response.

Their mirrored images look back at them from the screen – and yes, Ryo has exactly what one would call a bad case of “resting bitch face”. Fubuki doesn’t care and loves him anyway, especially with all those beautiful marks on his neck and shoulders that serve as proof of how much dedication he put into getting that picture.

Just one is not enough, though.

«Are we done here? », Ryo mumbles, as if he’s not wrapping his arms around his torso and hasn’t just finished kissing his shoulders and pressing the length of his body up against Fubuki’s back. He smirks and Ryo scowls at him in the reflection.

«Maybe», Fubuki replies with a tone that promises nothing good – but plenty of fun for him.

«What do you mean “may-“», Ryo’s cut off by Fubuki escaping his hug to turn towards him and catch his lips in a kiss, free hand reaching down again.

Ryo moans against his mouth and Fubuki prays that his hand is firm enough to get  _ at least _ one good picture.

It’s just for him, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my beta, whom I adore and who offered to help in the name of Idolshipping and all things good


End file.
